 | Landmarks and other poems |  |
WINTER SUNSET.
The winter day is done:From early morn blown over restless crowds
Of slow-advancing clouds,
With chilly, azure-lighted intervals,
Now—large and low, beneath their lifted vail—
Breathlessly bright! the sun
Against the eastern distance falls,
Reddening the far forests, empty and cold,
Whence the dumb river draws its icy trail
Through valley-farms the barren hills enfold,
And on the slope, under the spark-like spire,
The village windows shiver, all afire!
| Landmarks and other poems | |